Crossed Wires
by harmonyopc
Summary: During repairs, Cade accidentally crosses some wires... causing Optimus to have repeated overloads, which he desperately tries to hide. Cade/Optimus shipping and romance develops. Rated M for some sexuality.
1. Crossed and Uncrossed

This fic is based on 2 prompts from the latest Transformers Kinkmeme.

PROMPT #1: "It's pretty obvious Cade is working really close to Optimus' spark chamber when he's repairing him in AOE. What if Cade accidentally crosses some wires and causes Optimus to be stuck in a state of constant arousal? And what if the repair work makes Optimus have repeated overloads?"

PROMPT #2: "What I'd love is seeing Cade realizing he has feelings for Optimus, and trying to keep it to himself. But he's doing a bad job of it. He gets flustered and nervous and trips over himself around the bot, he's completely foolishly in love. Optimus knows and loves him for it, he thinks it's endearing. At some point there's a revelation and Cade is still completely a wreck but Optimus takes care of him. It can be sexual or not, but if it is, I would prefer bot on human, not holoform (or a robotic looking holoform instead of a human one.)"

**There is no shipping or romance in this chapter, but there will be in later chapters.**

* * *

"OK, big guy, settle down. We're gonna be here a while."

"I am settled," Optimus replied with his usual calm pragmatism. He had recently seated himself upright against one of the support beams. His blue optics were trained on the weary mechanic, who had just maneuvered his ladder into the right position. "Cade, I must point out that you are more likely to tire than I am. If I were to lie down -"

"Then I'd just as likely fall into your chest as fix anything," Cade replied. "This way I may be twisted around a little, but at least I can reach. And when I can't, I can step forward onto you as opposed to falling in." He paused, one hand on the top rung of the ladder, the other reaching for the stained sweat-towel draped over his right shoulder. "I've pulled all-nighters before. I'll do it again if I have to. We may not have a lot of time."

Optimus did not reply to this. He knew what the human meant, but Cade could not know that Transformers reckoned time far differently. For a bot, it could be Earth months or years between powerdowns. He recalled with amusement how startled he had been to learn that humans had to spend approximately one-third of their lives in a sort of low-grade shutdown mode. He had at first thought their entire race was sick or injured in some way, until Rachet pointed out the comparison between their cycles with that of other diurnal mammals of their planet.

His thoughts were interrupted by the pain. He had purposefully not told Yeager that normally he'd be unconscious for this sort of surgery. He did not want to inhibit the human with a fear of harming him. Almost nothing Cade could do would be worse than what had already been done to him. And this time, he was ready for it. Optimus felt the sting of new connections firing, the ache of old exposed cables grinding painfully together... and bore it silently. If he groaned or twitched, he could startle or dislodge the small, soft-bodied creature working on him.

The heavily-protected spark chamber emitted a soft buzz that Cade felt more than he heard. The hair on his arms stood up when his hands moved close to it. He shook his head slowly when he realized just how much damage Optimus had taken. _These guys are practically indestructible, _he thought. _What kind of missile could almost kill one of them? _Prime's armor was so hard that none of his drills or saws made the slightest dent. Optimus had had to pry his own chest open wider so that Yeager had room to work.

The job had looked incredibly complex, he mused, till he stopped thinking of it as machine repair and started thinking of it as a kind of mechanical surgery. This hose (vein?) was meant to carry Energon to that temporary storage tank down there (a sort of stomach?). A clamp would temporarily stop that leak until he could grab something to patch it. And there. This cable looked to have been severed, and if so, its other end was right back there... how to connect them again? He tugged experimentally to see whether he could coax either one out further.

Suddenly he yelped and clutched wildly at Prime's chest for balance as the once-stoic Autobot shuddered and gave the deepest of groans.

"Optimus! Optimus, are you okay?" He looked at the base of the ladder; luckily, both sides were still planted firmly on the ground, straddling the bot's left leg.

Optimus gave another brief moan, then fell silent. His optics were shielded. For a moment Cade feared he had somehow killed him.

Then the blue optics were exposed again. The giant bot tilted his head back and gazed at the roof of the barn. "It is nothing. Please ... continue."

Cade hesitantly reached for the cables he'd been trying to connect - they stubbornly seemed to retract, as if aware of his touch - and looked up at Optimus' face again. "Are you sure? You sounded like you were hurt."

"I apologize for disturbing your work," Prime replied. His voice sounded strained. "I assure you it is nothing I cannot handle. I will not dislodge you. Please continue."

Cade nodded. He reached for a thick copper-alloy cable that seemed like it would be the best available conductor for the two stubborn severed ends he was trying to connect. His emotions shifted wildly between fear of some energy surge shocking the fuck out of him if he misjudged, hope that he wasn't hurting Optimus, self-assurance at his ability to repair any machine, and the deepest humility at being privileged to explore and repair the alien biology of this gentle, sentient being. Optimus' functionality, and therefore his life, was in Cade's hands. Fleetingly he remembered the feeling that had come over him when the nurse had first placed Tessa in his arms.

"Hope you're not allergic to copper," he murmured, and picked up the soldering iron from the detachable storage shelf.

To Cade's dismay, Optimus shuddered again while he was working, so lightly that Cade at first wondered if he had imagined it. And again, once the second connection was in place. When Cade removed his hands, Prime gave a groan so deep that Cade felt it rattle the blood within the chambers of his own human heart. He gasped, grabbing the top of the ladder. A low mechanical whine below his feet alerted him to the fact that both Optimus' beautifully articulated hands were clenched into fists. When he looked up at Prime's face, the Autobot leader's optics were once more shielded.

"Prime?" Cade whispered, and then cleared his throat. "Optimus?" he queried loudly.

Optimus' optics focused on Cade again. He unclenched his hands and lay them down at his sides.

"Optimus, what's wrong?" Cade was genuinely alarmed at this point. The Autobot still didn't answer. "Optimus?"

The initial surge had been bad enough. Prime was in control of his emotions at all times, but having his own biological drives turned against him was something he had never expected. The human could not know of his arousal, he thought desperately. He didn't know what he'd done. It would only harm him if he became aware of the distress Optimus felt. Optimus sensed they were almost finished with the major repairs. He fought to keep his upper body still as another overload surged through his massive body. He must be able to move and fight again; that was paramount! He was a Prime, Called to lead, built to serve, veteran of countless battles. He could endure this situation. Nothing was leaking; none of his vitals were spiking. He would be free soon enough to seek Rachet's help to fix the problem - surely the canny medic was alive somewhere, or... He lost the thought as his pelvis twisted in sweet agony and his hands clenched into fists once again.

"Cade Yeager," he gasped. "I assure you, I can handle..." He stopped for another few seconds, his head falling back against the support beam. "I can handle any pain. I will not disturb your work. Please continue."

"We're almost done," Cade feverishly assured him. He placed a few more clamps, tested some connections. In what felt like an eternity to the Autobot, Cade leaned back against the ladder and looked up at Optimus. "I've repaired everything I could see. Can you test - test yourself out?"

Optimus sighed and shuddered again, then seemed to collapse into himself. Wearily, he informed the human, "I will test my mechanisms only once you have removed yourself and your equipment."

Cade detached and folded the storage shelf from the ladder, throwing everything hastily into a large grease-stained tool bag, and descended in record time. He picked up the ladder and dragged everything away from the autobot. Optimus was acting strange; stranger than he'd been before the repairs. What if the titan malfunctioned somehow, and became violent again?

"I'll just leave you alone for a little while," Cade said in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

"Yes," Prime growled as he staggered to his feet, "that might be for the best."

Yeager performed an abrupt about-face and practically ran out of the barn, stopping only to bar the doors behind him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something wrong. Optimus seemed weaker, somehow trembly in his movements.

_If he's hurt,_ Cade thought feverishly, _I'll never forgive myself._

_If he's hurt, what the hell else can I do?_

* * *

Even with his chest still partially open and another overload threatening, Optimus Prime could and did test his abilities to transform, arm himself, and perform battle maneuvers. His dexterity was incredible considering how damaged he had been. There were some numb spots on his limbs and torso due to the alien metals Yeager had used for patching, but they were relatively small.

And oh, how he wished that some other parts would go numb. Never in his long, long life had Optimus so heavily regretted that Transformers' bodies were able to feel pleasure. The ultimate pleasure - sensory overload, the ultimate way their species shared intimacy, partnered, forged bonds of love. Only here and now, there was no partner to bond with. Here there was only his own body, betraying him. He could only concentrate on one thing ... trying to control his arousal. And his resistance was weakening.

Finally, Optimus Prime collapsed to his knees and surrendered. Another overload, then another, surged through his mighty frame. Shuddering and swaying, he ran his articulated fingers up and down his body, delighting in the delicate sensors, the beautifully tough armor, the wonder of Primus' creation. "By the All-Spark," he groaned aloud.

* * *

Cade had been unable to resist watching what Prime would do to test his abilities. How many people were lucky enough to work on a living Transformer, much less watch one in action? Peeking through the barn doors, he clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping aloud. Optimus had fallen to his knees, but did not seem to be hurt. In fact, he seemed...

"Oh my God," he whispered into his fingers, just as Optimus called upon his own deity in a voice lost to pleasure.

Cade hadn't been hurting him. He'd been... helping him. Sort of.

His cheeks aflame, he thought back quickly to the repairs he'd made. When had Optimus started expressing his - discomfort? It had to have something to do with the copper-alloy cable he'd soldered into place. Maybe those two "ends" were meant to stay disconnected.

Did Optimus even know what precisely was causing it? Any more than Cade knew what caused headaches, or why aspirin worked?

As the giant mech climbed to his feet again, still trembling, Cade decided it was time to step in.

"We can't close you up yet, big guy," he proclaimed loudly, barging back into the barn as if nothing had happened. "I was thinking over what I did, and there's something I need to make right."

"Indeed?" Prime's hot-blue optics fixated on Yeager with an expression that somehow combined yearning, pleading, and desperate hope.

"Yes. That last cable I soldered together," Cade went on smoothly, grabbing the ladder, the shelf, and his toolbag. "I'm not convinced it was the right metal. It felt like it was getting too hot."

To Cade's intense relief, the giant Autobot did not protest, but meekly seated himself against the support beam once more. Cade placed the ladder over Optimus' leg again, climbed up, attached the shelf, and laid out the equipment he would need.

He steeled himself and applied the soldering iron to the copper-alloy cable. He felt Optimus jerk slightly. There was a rush of air, a blur on either side of the robot's body, and a loud clang, and suddenly Optimus was gripping the support beam with both hands over his head. Before Cade could react, Prime murmured, "Merely a precaution. Please continue."

Just before the connection was severed, Cade saw and felt one more massive shudder overtake Optimus' massive metal frame. Cade jerked his hands and his tools out of the way just in time, grabbed the ladder, and prayed that Optimus would keep his legs still and not send him flying.

Soon enough, things were calm again. The Autobot leader's optics remained shielded as Cade removed the alien metal from the Transformer's body. Looking closer, Cade saw that the cables inside Optimus' chest, which he had orginally thought raggedly severed, were actually "wired" with tiny connectors of their own... and felt stretchier, somehow, than they had previously. Luckily, it seemed his soldering iron wasn't hot enough to harm them. He wondered if anything on Earth could, short of another missile.

"I think we're done here," he breathed. "For real this time." Again, he gathered his equipment and climbed down. "Care to try yourself out again?"

Optimus unshielded his optics and trained them once again on the inventor. "No, Cade Yeager," he replied. "I can feel that I am well now." As Cade watched in amazement, the giant metal arms descended, and Optimus' fingers labored to push his chest plates back into proper alignment.

It seemed to take longer than Cade thought it should. Then again, what did he know?

"I will be forever in your debt," the Autobot rumbled. He crouched low so that he was somewhat nearer eye-level with Cade, his expression serious. "I mean it, Cade Yeager. With all my Spark."

Unexpected tears sprang to Cade's eyes. He suppressed them manfully and clasped his hands behind his back. "It was an honor to work on you, Optimus Prime." His heart swelled with gratitude he wished he had the words to convey.


	2. Musings on a Metal Heart

Cade threw down his socket wrench and slammed a fist into the wooden frame temporarily supporting his latest "creation". The frame groaned and creaked, but held up. Sourly, he contemplated continuing to punch and kick it till it fell apart, along with the pathetic excuse for a … a whatever it was he was trying to build.

Instead, he stood up and stretched, ignoring the sting in his knuckles. He forced himself to walk calmly to the mini-fridge and grabbed a beer. Never pausing, he strode past his workbench and out the door into the cooling night.

"Gotta relax," he muttered. His mind turned, as it so often did, to all the events of 6 months ago. Sometimes he had nightmares. Other times, he had dreams so bizarre or so amazing, he didn't want to wake up.

Was it just a simple case of empty nest? He took a swig of the beer, staring off into the distance. He worried about Tessa constantly, even though he knew she was safe… as safe as anyone could be… as (discreetly) protected as Joyce's money would buy. He worried that she cared too much for that kid, Shane, and not enough about her grades and her degree. After he and Joyce had settled up financially, tuition was no longer a problem (along with a new house and a new workspace that made that hot, dusty barn seem like a complete joke …and he was glad he had stubbornly insisted on rebuilding everything back at the old farm). But he couldn't make Tessa care about school. He couldn't make her see that without a degree – even if it was in underwater basket-weaving, for God's sake – most people would only ever see her pretty face and assume she was just another dumb chick, and never hire her, or pay her what she was worth, or… respect her.

Respect. He snorted. Now there was a word he'd thrown around often but never understood.

Till he met Optimus Prime.

You had to respect a creature that, within seconds of being functional, transformed into a living, sentient weapon that was willing and able to blow you to bits. Terrifying enough to make you piss yourself? Absolutely. Worthy of respect? Yes. That too.

But it was what had happened after the initial scare that had started the fire inside him. He stared up at the sky. The moon – waxing gibbous, he thought absently – was so bright; the landscape looked so peaceful and quiet. He was away from the circuitry and the metal bits and the harsh light and the frustration. It freed him to think, to feel.

To remember.

This gigantic, brilliant, beautiful, millennia-old battered warrior had needed _Cade's _help. Had had to rely on him. On nothing more than his human heart and mind, and the meager tools he'd assessed over the years, and some Earth-made parts that he was so very unsure of. Optimus hadn't had much of a choice; Cade knew this. But the Autobot could have fought. He could have resisted. He didn't have to submit to this tiny, tinkering alien who wanted to poke around his inner workings.

He could have just killed them all.

And he didn't. And after the first few moments, Cade knew he wouldn't. Even after he witnessed the true force of Optimus' rage – after seeing a friend, a comrade for thousands of years, violently ripped to shreds, who could blame Optimus? – even then, Cade was not afraid.

Prime had told him, "I will be forever in your debt." He was one of the good guys. Cade hadn't understood, back then, what it meant to be a Prime in Cybertronian culture. How rare they were. How … trusted. But even before he knew, he had trusted Optimus.

_Is he gone forever? _Cade wondered for the hundred thousandth time. _Will I ever see him again? Will my great-grandchildren see him, even? _He'd learned that Transformers' lifespans were so long that human years were literally like a blink of an eye… an optic… to them. He knew Optimus would never willingly forget him, because he had told him as much himself. That was some consolation.

Other Autobots remained. Cade was torn between wanting to ask them every question in the entire universe, and not wanting to hear the answers. They had plenty to keep them busy, anyway. Every once in a while he would spot a familiar vehicle in the distance, and his heart would lift. Their visits were like Tessa's visits home: too short and laden with emotion.

Emotion.

_What did the big guy do to me?_ he thought. It has seemed so simple at the time. Prime had needed help; Cade was there. Prime needed a mechanic who wouldn't sell him to the government; Cade was there at the right time.

Except that no invention, no machine repair, no mechanical work he had ever done could compare. He had had his hands inside a living thing born of alien metal, right up next to that thing's equivalent of a heart. A living being that could feel pain and love and anger and hope, could communicate (in how many languages?), could run and fight and change its entire form in less than an instant.

His entire life, he had only hoped to build robots that could recognize and carry out simple commands. He had never dreamed of … meeting a robot that had a mind of its own. Much less its own culture, language, and civilization too old for his mind to really grasp.

A machine that was _alive. _

Every other machine now seemed deaf and mute to him, pale echoes of what could be. He knew he would never create something like Optimus' kind. But he could dream.

His gaze shifted from the moon to the stars. He'd done the math one night, scribbling feverishly and typing into Google till all hours, trying to figure out how long it would take Prime to get to even the next closest star to Earth's sun, Proxima Centauri. The problem was, he had no idea what the Autobot was capable of in terms of speed. Oh, and of course, that he had no idea where Prime was actually headed.

Unless Cybertronians possessed some sci-fi warp-speed technology, the results of his doodles were not promising. He sometimes thought about the fact that they'd gotten to Earth in the first place, and that comforted him… till he remembered how long ago they'd arrived. And also, he had no idea how long it had taken for them to get there.

He resolved one day to ask, even though he was afraid of the answer.


	3. Reunion

He was being held, like a child; rocked gently. The smell was less like machine oil and coolant and more like... hot stone. And not really like any of those things.

_In his hands, I am secure,_ Cade thought. _Optimus wouldn't drop me._ And the titan did not; he cradled Cade close to his chest and hummed aimlessly, without a real tune. Like and yet unlike the deep growl of his idle in vehicle form... no, wait. There were words. The Prime was talking to Cade. Why couldn't he understand him?

_You can't understand him because you're not supposed to understand him,_ his mind whispered. _He's not talking to you in this dream._

As soon as he became aware he was dreaming, he felt a bitter surge of resentment. Now he had no choice but to wake. _I won't wake up,_ he thought stubbornly. His limbs were too heavy to move anyway. "I don't want to wake up," he told Optimus in the dream, fully aware that he sounded like Tessa at age two. "I want to stay here with you."

Optimus was speaking again. But he hadn't quit his humming, either.

_He's outside my head, _Cade thought abruptly. _In the real world. _

_He's here._

He snapped awake, head whipping automatically to the window beside his bed.

There, in the bright moonlight, was the object of his desire, Optimus Prime, peering with one brilliant glowing optic into his second-story bedroom window. The one individual he never thought he'd see again. Cade knew he wasn't hallucinating, and at the same time wondered whether he could trust his own judgment. So often, his dreams felt real. So often, he'd been disappointed.

He started to open the window – what had Optimus been saying? – but was too excited to operate the simple mechanism. He leaped from his bed and careened through the hallway, down the stairs, not even grasping for the railing. He didn't care if he fell. He was flying.

He landed on the ground beside his front porch, teeth jarring together from the impact. He half-ran, half-stumbled to Optimus' feet, looking up at the enormous alien robot looking down at him. And before either one of them said anything, Cade felt himself walk forward slowly, trembling from head to toe, and throw his arms around outside of the Prime's ankle, as far as he could reach. He wondered where the hell his precious dignity had run off to, why the hell he was hugging a robot, when he realized he was crying; and suddenly nothing mattered in the world except the answer to this one overwhelming question:

"Is it really you?"

It came out as a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder. "Optimus Prime, is it really you? Are you really back?"

"Yes, Cade Yeager, I am," and the height and depth of emotion expressed in that gentle, wild, rumbling voice was all the answer Cade had ever needed, ever.

The engineer, the inventor, the dreamer, the builder - in this moment, Cade was none of those things. In this moment, he was just a man. Nothing more.

"I missed you." It was all he could say.

The ancient metal warrior knelt carefully on one knee, leaving his other foot and leg perfectly still. He had no desire to dislodge Cade. He knew how important touch was to humans. It was only slightly less important to Cybertronians. He reached down with both hands and clasped them together, almost like a cage, surrounding his friend. When he felt the soft warmth of the human's flesh against his fingers, he stopped all pressure. He heard Cade's intake of breath, even felt the incredibly minute dampness of his friend's tears on his armor. He knew what they meant. He was touched, to his very Spark. He had never regretted more those few hours when he gave up on the entire human race. He had never been more grateful to have regained his faith in humanity.

"Spark of my Spark," Optimus replied clumsily in English - it sounded so different in Cybertronian. "Friend of friends, Cade. I have missed you too."

* * *

"How long have you been back?" Cade asked. _These seats are really comfortable,_ he thought. Since there was no way he would get back to sleep, he had insisted on showing Optimus his new workshop. But even though he'd designed a side entrance which would allow for larger machinery to be hauled in (theoretically), the doors still wouldn't allow the bot to comfortably pass through except in vehicle form.

It never occurred to him, even once, that he had designed this place with an entryway which just happened to be large enough to accommodate an 18-wheeler.

"I have been on Earth for only a few days," Optimus replied. Cade could not just hear, but feel the deep voice all around him. Had he noticed that before? He tried to recall. "I have made contact with the other Transformers and received their reports on the current state of events."

_What the hell does that even mean? _Cade thought. Out loud he said, "What did they have to say?"

Optimus paused before answering. "All is well... mostly," he replied with his usual equanimity.

Cade felt himself sag a little, releasing tension he didn't know he was holding onto. "So you're not here to warn me about something."

"No, Cade Yeager," replied the Prime. "As I said previously, I am visiting you because my team informed me you had asked about me several times. Also, you were one of the first humans I wanted to see when I returned."

At that statement, Cade's heart leapt into his throat.

"When I told you I would be forever in your debt, I was not exaggerating," Optimus continued solemnly.

Cade's heart plummeted back down toward his stomach. _He's just here because he felt he owed me?_ he thought.

"I thought of you and your Sparkling many times when I was away," Optimus continued. "Contact was sporadic and unreliable. Interstellar communication is much trickier than interplanetary. I wondered if you were safe. Your race, like mine, has a tendency to be violent and unpredictable."

Cade wasn't sure what to say to that. They were now just outside the workbuilding, and Cade knew he needed to get out and open the doors for Optimus, but somehow he couldn't tear himself away from the conversation.

"I - I'm glad you wanted to see me," he replied finally. "I wanted to see you, too. More than anything." His face reddened. "Except Tessa, of course. I mean, she's my daughter. I live to see her. Not that I'd ever tell her that. But – you know – Optimus, I wasn't sure you would ever be back. I… I wanted to be sure your systems are still in working order." His face now actually felt like it was on fire. OF COURSE, Optimus Prime would have had the chance to be properly looked at and repaired by one of his own race by now. _Can't_ y_ou can't say anything that doesn't make you sound like a complete moron? _he raged to himself.

Optimus' engine revved in a weird, growly, rhythmic way that sounded so much like a human laugh that Cade chuckled. Then giggled. Then laughed out loud. Here he was, _inside Optimus Prime_ at approximately three o'clock in the morning, beating himself up for being clumsy with words, when he'd been fast asleep and dreaming not twenty minutes before. Still laughing, he opened Optimus' passenger door (sitting in the driver's seat seemed impolite unless there was some emergency), leaped to the ground, and scrambled to submit his handprint.

The huge double doors swung slowly open.

* * *

"So that's about it," Cade concluded. He stood back and regarded the Prime, trying to gauge his reaction.

Optimus, back in his robot form, calmly regarded the new space: walls and walls of shelving, clean concrete floor, thirty-five-foot ceiling, bright incandescent lighting which left no corner to the imagination; every imaginable tool, inventions in progress all over the place. It was a huge workshop: larger than the old barn, far larger than one human was likely to need. His optics turned back toward the entrance he'd driven through a few minutes before. Consciously or not, Cade had built this space large enough for a machine of his size to maneuver in comfort. He almost smiled.

"Most impressive," he replied to Cade. He noticed something tacked to a wall, nearly hidden behind a rolling rack of spare parts. It was small, but he recognized the image of one of his own kind. "Cade, what is on the wall behind that wheeled mechanism?" He pointed carefully.

Cade looked in the direction Optimus was pointing, clearly puzzled. He strode over and started to push the rolling rack aside; then he jerked as if someone had zapped him, turned beet-red, and moved the rack back into its original position. He then stood in front of it, arms crossed protectively. "It's n-nothing," he stammered.

Optimus still sometimes misread human body language. He wasn't sure whether his friend was displaying fear or some other kind of discomfort. He wanted Cade to be comfortable. "Cade, let us agree to be truthful with each other," he replied. "That is an image of a Transformer. Why do you have that in here?"

Cade's eyes widened. The color drained from his face; his mouth hung open. He backed away from Optimus hastily, palms out. "No – n-no, NO, Optimus, I would never – I would _never_ try to do what those assholes did to you! I would never!" The robot stood impassively as his human friend ranted and raved, hoping that Cade would calm down soon and explain. Humans were so fragile, so excitable, he thought with amusement. Not that Transformers weren't, in their own way. It was just that so few things on this planet could harm them…

"Cade Yeager," he interrupted after another minute or two, "I do not think that you have the desire to build a Transformer and use it for evil means. You are not like Joyce. You would not take one of us apart and try to capitalize on the remains." Cade did not reply, so Optimus went on with some amusement, "In addition, you would find that task nearly impossible using only a picture."

Cade sighed. He appeared relieved. "Well, you're right about that," he said softly. "I – after working on you, I would never be able to take one of you apart just to see how you tick, no matter how curious I am. It would be like dissecting a corpse. Worse." He shuddered. "I was ashamed to be human when I found out what they were doing in there." He took a deep, shuddery breath. "The picture isn't – isn't supposed to be a model to build a Transformer, Optimus. It was just a … reminder." Stepping back to the rolling rack, he pushed it aside. The image tacked to the wall was fully exposed to the robot's view.

"I don't even remember who took it, or how they took it," he explained, "but somehow this got emailed to me. It was before you took off. It was the only reminder… the only reminder that wasn't … tainted." He was at a loss for words.

Optimus hunkered down to look at the image more closely. The image was rather large – about half as tall as Cade; what humans would call a poster. He recognized himself after the battle. On closer inspection, he saw Cade in the picture as well. The human stood respectfully off to the side, his arm around Tessa protectively, his gaze focused on Optimus Prime.

"I understand, Cade," Optimus said, rising to his full height. "It was not a model, but a substitute."

Cade looked up at him, saying nothing. How expressive human eyes could be, Optimus noted.

"I guess you could say that," Cade replied at last. He dropped his head, then looked back up at the Prime. "You know, I've never seen anything like you. I'm – I build things. I've built things all my life. Robots, even. Primitive ones, of course. When I learned about Transformers… well, I never thought I would get to see one of you up close. Then when I did…" He exhaled loudly. "It changed me."

Optimus waited. Cade was not done.

"Machines – machines of Earth – they can't think by themselves. They can only do what you tell them to do. But you… no one can think for you. Anyone who tried to give you a command would be an idiot. You – you're alive."

Optimus regarded the human with gentle amusement. "Yes, I am," he said. "Living machines do not exist on your world. I can understand. The first time I encountered an organic being, I was very much at a loss."

"And you – you let me put my hands in you," Cade finished. He didn't realize he was weeping again until he felt the tears drop onto his hands. "I had my hands right next to your heart. I could feel its energy."

Optimus smiled. "I remember."

"I'll never be able to do that again," Cade said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I wouldn't want to. It would mean you were hurt. Hell's bells, Optimus, I didn't even think I'd _see _you again. This picture – whoever took it, I was so grateful. It was a reminder that what happened to me was real. Even if I never got that close to a Transformer again … I am so lucky that it happened at all."

He stopped.

Optimus tilted his head. "But you have been close to others of my kind. My teammates have visited you."

Cade laughed, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of the white T-shirt he'd worn to bed. "It's not the same," he replied simply.

* * *

**Author's note:** Sorry this ends in an odd place. My writing time has been very limited lately. I will update as soon as I can, hopefully with something a bit more exciting. Thanks for reading!


	4. Bonds of Love

_Author's Note: _This feels like it will be the last chapter of this fic. If you would like to read more in this same vein, please let me know. Thank you for reading my first-ever Transformers fic. I am happy that I am not alone. :)

**Also, fair warning: this chapter is where the shipping/romance/sexuality happens (such as it is).**

* * *

After the two of them rolled out of the workshop, Cade was still too excited to go back to sleep, of course. He was surprised to learn that Optimus had not meant to interrupt his "power-down".

From the passenger seat, Cade frowned at Optimus' steering column, arms crossed. "If you didn't mean to wake me up, why did you visit at 3 in the morning?"

"It was not my intention to disturb you," Optimus rumbled gently. "I wanted to see, with my own optics, that you were safe. One of my team does the same for your Tessa as often as possible. In vehicle mode, of course."

Cade had a brief flash of Tessa as a toddler; of checking on her in the middle of the night to be sure she was still breathing. He was absurdly touched. "Seven million humans on this planet, and you personally look in on my daughter and me?"

"We have other ways we help humanity as a whole," the robot replied equitably.

There was something else Cade couldn't let go. "But about earlier. I thought I heard you talking. It woke me up." He frowned. "But I'm not sure. I was dreaming. You were in my dream too."

This news surprised Optimus, but he did not let on. "You are correct. I did speak to you. I kept my volume low. I did not realize it would still wake you."

"What did you say?"

"I greeted you in Cybertronian. I grew used to using our language again while I was away from Earth."

"Oh. … and what does that sound like?"

The Prime's voice uttered a short phrase. No linguist, Cade thought the words sounded harsh, grinding, and uncompromising, but somehow beautiful. Much like the Transformers themselves.

"You all use that many words just to say hello?"

"There are different greetings depending on the relationship," Optimus replied. "That greeting is one I would use for a close friend. The translation is something like… 'While we were separated, my Spark was one with yours.'"

Cade's breath caught in his throat.

"Is that true?" he heard himself ask.

"Of course," Optimus replied. "We believe that where the mind goes, the Spark follows. You and I were thinking of one another, as good friends do, so our Sparks were one."

_As good friends do. _That phrase echoed in Cade's head. He felt a strange ache in his heart.

"What did you find out there?" he heard himself ask. "Did you find what you were looking for? … Your creators?"

Optimus was silent so long that Cade almost repeated himself, but stopped just in time, realizing that the Prime was deciding how best to answer him. The thought crossed his mind that he had, essentially, just asked the leader of the Autobots about God. His face was on fire… again.

He squirmed in Optimus' passenger seat, but said nothing. He hoped Optimus couldn't see him. He had the sneaking suspicion, however, that Optimus could.

"Do not be embarrassed, Cade Yeager," Optimus said at length. "It is a reasonable question. You must have assumed I would not return without answers, and that those answers lay too far away to be found in a human lifetime."

"Yes, I did," Cade replied truthfully. "I looked up the distances between the stars. It wasn't encouraging."

"And yet you never asked my companions about our capacity for interstellar travel."

"I…" Cade swallowed. _What the hell is wrong with me? _he thought. _I can tell Optimus this. We're friends. He came to check on me. _"I was afraid of what they might say. I was curious as hell, but … I just couldn't stand it if they confirmed, a hundred percent, that I'd never see you again. I guess I just held on to …" he trailed off.

"Hope," Optimus replied gently. "We are not so different in that regard. Hope is part of what makes life worth living… whether that life is fifty years or fifty thousand."

"That's another thing," Cade blurted out before he could think it through. "Why the hell would you want to be friends with me? With any human? Compared to your lifespan, mine is like … an insect! Why do you care so much about the human race?"

"Have you never felt love or affection for one that had a shorter lifespan than you?" Optimus sounded amused. "For one not of your own race? Have you never caused harm to such a one, and tried to repair it?"

"Well, an animal, yeah. A pet, maybe. But we're not your pets."

"No, you are not. As sentient beings, you are our equals. The opposite question also applies, Cade. Why would you care about an alien race which essentially invaded your planet, bringing so much danger with it? A race with a lifespan far longer than your own?"

"You – " Cade laughed. "You didn't bring that much more danger to us humans than we already bring to each other. The ancients would have regarded you as gods, you know."

"We are not gods," Optimus rumbled. "But to your point about friendship. Yes, my life is likely to extend far longer than yours. However, that does not mean you have nothing to teach me. You have already taught me much."

"I – me?" It came out almost as a squeak.

"Yes. You."

Cade desperately wanted to probe, but suddenly he didn't dare. Instead, he returned to his original, slightly less embarrassing question. "So did you find …. your creators, or not?"

"I found the answers I sought. However, they cannot be summed up easily or quickly. I would prefer to save the full discussion for another time."

"Well – fine." He sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the thrum of Optimus' powerful idle. It was subtly different from that of a normal truck. His mind quieted down. It was so comforting to know that whatever Optimus thought of him, he would probably never be impatient. His view of time was so different. Cade took a deep breath and plunged. "What have I taught you?" he asked quietly.

"That human compassion cannot be separated from human curiosity," said Optimus. "That the bond between father and Sparkling goes much deeper than genetic responsibility. And that I cannot separate my gratitude for you from my love for you."

He spoke so matter-of-factly that it took a few seconds for Cade to realize that an Autobot had just used the word _love. _"Wha – Optimus – I don't think you – I mean – "

"It was not merely my existence you saved," the titan rumbled, "but my dignity. My life. I was still existing, but I could accomplish nothing. Without you, I would not be truly living."

"Thank you," Cade said simply. "I – I lo – love – " He could not finish the sentence. He cleared his throat loudly, coughed, wondered why those words stuck in his throat. He'd said them so many times, to so many people, without a second thought. Optimus wouldn't take it the wrong way.

_He would take your words exactly as you mean them, _his mind whispered.

_That's what I'm afraid of, _he thought back. _What do I mean?_

He gasped. His hand flew to his mouth as images darted at him like sharp-beaked birds. Walking down the hall in high school and seeing her come out the door from Ms. Simpson's geometry class; how beautiful she looked, not knowing he was watching her. The way his heart pounded when she smiled at him for the first time. That feeling like he couldn't breathe when she was leaning in to kiss him. After they started dating, looking out his window at the stars and wondering whether she was thinking of him too. Her picture on his wall, keeping him company when he was working on whatever electronic device he'd opted to tear apart that week. Staying up all night sometimes, not because he was worried, but because he was elated, giddy with happiness, with the knowledge that a creature so wonderful knew his name and loved him in return.

Loved him in return.

The hours he had worried about Optimus, or wondered what the Autobot leader thought of him. The growing frustration with himself, feeling like trying to build anything robotic was both futile and somehow sacrilege. The picture on the wall of his workshop. The way he relived the memories, even the scary ones, and the conversations, over and over again, picking apart every word, every nuance. The fear – yes, _fear_ – that he would never see this glorious being again… that he would never be able to tell Optimus how awe-inspiring he was. How magnificent.

_Oh my dear God. _

He couldn't be in love! Optimus was a guy!

_Not a guy, _his mind insisted. _He's an alien. For all you know, we just call him "he" by default. _

No, what Optimus was… was a machine. A big, beautiful, living (breathing?) machine who was ancient and wise and powerful and pure and new. A mechanical knight in gleaming armor who had come to the rescue of Cade and his family. A complex mechanism whose workings Cade could never hope to understand – which would never, ever stop him from trying as long as he could draw breath. Of course Cade would fall in love with … someone like that.

He still couldn't entirely believe this. Not his feelings, nor his complete self-deception as to the nature of those feelings. Unfortunately, lying to oneself was all too human.

"Just call it what it is," he muttered softly. He'd taken up the habit of talking to himself since Tessa started college.

"And what is that?" rumbled the voice of Optimus.

"Oh! I didn't realize you could hear me," Cade replied. "I was just talking to myself. Thinking out loud."

Optimus' passenger door clicked and swung open abruptly. "I would like to continue our conversation after I resume my true form," the Autobot explained. "It is rare that I have the privacy to do so on this planet."

Cade climbed out hurriedly.

Then the magic happened again. Before Cade's eyes, the huge, powerful truck swiftly transformed into a twenty-eight-foot-tall robot. It was only when the last moving part had settled into place that Cade realized he'd been holding his breath. So quick; so efficient; so utterly beautiful. He had seen these beings transform in and out of their vehicle modes many times, and each time he stood in awe of their abilities. He would never grow tired of them.

Optimus' hot-blue optics were trained on Cade. He did not speak, but in his expression and stance, Cade thought he detected something like amusement. Amusement or … indulgence.

"S-so, Optimus," Cade stuttered, "I – I meant to ask you…" he broke eye contact with the Prime and plunked down on the ground, sitting crosslegged. Like a shy kid, he did not look back up, but plucked a few blades of grass and twisted them around in his hands.

"What is it, Cade?" In his tone, again, a feeling of indulgence… almost playful. If Optimus Prime was capable of play.

"How do you, your species I mean, how do you show love for one another?" Cade summoned all his courage and looked up again as he asked the question.

"We bond," Optimus replied in low, somber tones, "by spending time with one another. Exchanging words and vows of love, of friendship. By … interacting physically. Sometimes the closeness is so extreme that our Sparks beat as one – our energy becomes entwined." He paused for a moment, seeming to be lost in thought. "The most powerful and obvious way we can show love, is to cause sensory overload in one another."

"Sensory overload?" Unbidden, the image flickered across Cade's mind, of the giant Autobot falling to his knees, groaning, shuddering, calling out to the All-Spark…

"Yes," Optimus confirmed. "It is gratifying, overwhelmingly so. So strong a sensation that when it is happening, it is nearly impossible to think of anything else. Most consider it the ultimate pleasure."

"Like a human orgasm?" Cade was so fascinated that for just a moment he forgot to be self-conscious. He wondered whether Optimus had any knowledge of this aspect of human biology and behavior. Probably. Sometimes the bot seemed to know everything.

"Similar in experience, I believe," Optimus replied, "but we cannot reproduce by sensory overload alone."

"So that's what happened," Cade muttered. He knew Optimus would hear him, and he found he didn't care. He had just figured out something life-changing, something mind-blowing, and he _wanted _Optimus to know, consequences be damned. He was a child made of light, dancing on the edge of the void, willfully and blissfully ignorant of what might come.

"What do you mean, friend Cade?" Optimus' tone was a bit more guarded. Almost without thinking about it, Cade rose to his feet and looked into the Autobot leader's optics once more.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure I caused that – that overload thingie to happen to you when I was trying to repair you," Cade admitted. It felt so good to say the words out loud; to confess the thing he had never admitted to another living soul.

"I… thought I hid my reactions well," Optimus all but growled. It was amazing how incredibly nuanced his speech was, how emotionally rich, Cade noticed. He could listen to Optimus speak forever.

"You did," Cade hastened to assure him, "but I figured it out anyway." He paused. "Your reaction was similar to a human's. Just without the… um, discharge."

Optimus' grinding chuckle was music to Cade's ears. "I am glad it did not disturb you."

"You seemed, uh, you seemed kind of disturbed though," Cade replied.

Optimus' head tilted slightly. He knelt on one knee, his face as close to Cade's as possible. "Cade Yeager, your questions are more numerous than the stars. You are asking how Cybertronians express love. What is it that you are really trying to say?"

"I – I …" Cade's newfound confidence vanished without a trace. "I've already told you. What you and I experienced together – it changed me. I can't be like I was before I met you. Not ever again."

"And you wish to feel close again," Optimus finished the thought. "Yet you cannot bear to ask me to pry open my own armor just so you can get another look at how I work."

"I would never." Cade was startled. "You were injured. You were open because you needed help."

"You wish to feel close in another way," Optimus rumbled. "The way both our species use to forge bonds of love."

Cade nodded, tracing random patterns on the ground with his toe.

Before Cade had any time to think it over, to ponder the implications further, Optimus descended gracefully all the way to the ground (how had Cade ever thought robots should be clunky and awkward in their movements?) and lay on his back, head canted to one side to maintain eye contact with Cade. He reached out one effortless hand to lift Cade, carefully placing the smaller, more delicate being onto his massive chassis. He let Cade find his feet, but guarded him with both hands in case he slipped. "Lie down upon me," Optimus instructed in the gentlest of tones.

Cade complied, moving as if back in his dream, feeling out of place and yet supported, comforted. The giant bot's beautifully articulated hands surrounded Cade like the bars of a cradle, sheltering him, protecting him. He was bathed in the hot-stone-and-steel scent, situated near the center divide between Optimus' great chest plates. He could both feel and hear a steady, powerful thrumming – like and unlike the idle of a Peterbilt rig – so deep-toned it was almost inaudible; so deep it shook the very blood in the chambers of his heart. _His heart, _he thought with mild surprise. _That's what I'm feeling. Optimus' heartbeat. _

The more tightly he focused on it, the more the sensation increased. He could feel it all over, but for some reason it resonated most in his heart and his groin. Optimus seemed fully aware of what was happening. The feeling, the sound, the pulsation, all became more intense by the second. Next thing he knew, Cade was hearing the Prime's deep sigh of release, feeling the powerful and subtle shudders wracking his huge metal body. Cade felt his body writhing, rubbing against the heat, the vibration, the smoothness; his hips moved back and forth in the instinctive and familiar way. And suddenly, he was there. Sweet, sweet release, exquisite to the point of pain; forged in love, surrounded by love. Good God, it had been such a long time. Such a long time.

Cade was not even aware that he cried out in his passion – a deep, masculine growl, counterpoint to Optimus' even deeper groans when the strength of Cade's emotions drove him into overload again.

And then it was done. Cade lay facedown on Optimus' mighty chest, losing all sense of time, stroking the smooth armor lightly with one hand… the way he used to caress her face. Nothing felt weird. Nothing felt out of place. He could still feel the Autobot's Spark thrumming beneath him. All was right with the world. Optimus would never hurry.

Finally, Cade reached up and touched one of the Prime's fingers; Optimus took the cue and lifted his hands away, allowing Cade to get to his feet slowly. With careful, deliberate movements, Optimus lifted his human friend while he raised his own massive body to a sitting position. He lowered his hands and Cade seated himself comfortably there. With absolute wonder in his heart, he looked up again into the hot-blue optics of this beautiful, gentle, giant alien being with whom he had just forged the bonds of love.

_Don't kid yourself, _his mind whispered. _They were forged long before. This was just the seal. _

Optimus did not speak. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"Optimus Prime," Cade quavered. He lowered his head for a moment, then looked back up, not bothering to stem the flow of tears. "I love you too. And I hope I always will."


End file.
